Alien Bond

by Tracy Lauren

  I swing the door open and am met with Gile’s stocky and imposing frame. My heart skips a beat at the sight. There should be some kind of law against men this sexy. Tonight he wears his hair slicked back and though he’s usually shirtless, he’s donned some kind of fancy alien tunic which looks sinfully soft to the touch. The material is stretched tight over his muscled chest but leaves his golden arms free for my perusal. I blush at the thought, feeling like a pervert.

  “Hi.” I smile brightly and step aside, welcoming him into my home. His smile mirrors my own, though something about it reminds me of a lion. “Come on in.”

  Behind him, dinner is still in full effect in the courtyard. The sounds of talk and laughter bubble up around us. “I grabbed us some plates, if you haven’t already eaten…”

  “That was very thoughtful of you,” Gile tells me, stepping into my room. He hovers nervously around the door until I offer him a seat at the table. We’re eating the Elysian standard: fish, something like a chicken, and a cabbage and fruit salad—all of it grilled over an open fire.

  Gile takes his seat and hurries to pour us each a cup of ceata from the pot on the table. “Thanks.” I smile, wondering why this feels like an awkward first date. I’m quick to pull my cup into my hand, thankful to have something to keep me from fidgeting.

  “So, you said you had some questions?” I say, remembering the purpose of our little get-together.

  “Mmmm, yes.” He takes a bite of his meal and I sip at my ceata, waiting for him to organize his thoughts.

  “What is a hickie?”

  I choke on my drink. Gile goes rigid in his seat and I push my mug away, coughing into my napkin.

  “Sorry, what?”

  “Are you alright?” His expression looks worried.

  “Yeah, just caught off guard. Um, why are you asking about hickies?”

  “Reagan, she said her mate would come to their bed with hickies—I do not know what that means.”

  “Oh, uh… Yeah, I can explain that,” I tell him, but no explanation comes to mind. “Um, do you have any other questions? Maybe we can start with those and circle back around?”

  “Of course.” Gile nods, looking a slightly abashed.

  “We’ll get back to it, I promise,” I tell him, reaching across the table to put my hand on his. The gesture softens his features and the cheerful smile returns to his face.

  “I had a hard time understanding your Gear-y problem.”

  “Gear-y? Oh! You mean Gary.” I laugh. “What was it that confused you?” I ask, sharing my attention with our dinner.

  “You called his betrayal something, I cannot recall…”

  “Cheating,” I supply.

  Gile frowns. “I do not think that is an apt description of his actions.”

  I sit back in my seat and consider Gile’s appraisal, rolling the word around in my mind. “You’re right. Cheating makes it sound like we were playing a game, but we weren’t. We were married and we made a commitment to one another. Sure, we were young when we got together, but that shouldn’t have made our marriage any less sacred. I think I like your word choice a better.”

  “What did I call it?” he asks.

  “A betrayal.”

  He nods solemnly. “A mating bond is sacred,” he says, agreeing with me. “You still miss your mate, despite everything?”

  “Miss him? Oh hell no,” I say, screwing up my face in disgust. Gile leans back in his chair and laughs at my reaction. “Literally zero part of me misses Gary. Instead I feel…I don’t know, haunted? Some of the things he said to me at the end there really got under my skin.”

  “Like what?”

  I sigh and replay the words in my mind, before offering them over to Gile. “You’re going to let yourself be miserable forever.” I frown, a sour taste left in my mouth at Gary’s lingering accusation. “He also called me a leech; said I was draining all the happiness from his life.”

  Gile sets his alien chopstick utensil down and rakes his hand over his eyes.

  “Pretty bad, huh?”

  He leans back in his seat and takes a deep breath, the bronze veins crisscrossing his flesh almost seem to flare brighter for a moment. “That makes me angry, Mel.”

  “Yeah…I think he was just trying to paint me as the bad guy in his mind, you know? So he wouldn’t have to feel so guilty about cheating. Or betraying me…”

  “You don’t need to protect him, you know?,” Gile tells me. “He’s not here. I can’t break his arms for speaking to you in such a way and I have no way of hunting him down. Protecting him is the last thing you need to do right now.”

  I chuckle at Gile’s threat of violence toward my ex. Call me petty, but I wish I would have had someone like him in my corner when Gary broke things off.

  “I know…whenever I talk about Gary, I can’t stop myself from downplaying what happened. I’m always telling people how young we were when we got married or how distant I became when grieving for my mom.”

  “Is this because you still love him?” Gile looks unhappy at the prospect.

  I shake my head and smile though I feel sad. “Gary and I were over before he cheated. We were too young when we got married—too naïve to know what love really means. Looking back, I always knew he wasn’t the one for me. He wasn’t my forever. And now I protect him because of what he said to me.”

  “I am afraid I am at a loss once more.”

  I take a deep breath before I admit my secret to Gile. It’s something I haven’t shared with anyone, not even the group. “I agreed with Gary. The things he said—they spoke to my deepest fears. He thought I was a miserable person and asked me when I was going to choose happiness…I had no answer for him.”

  Gile leans back in his seat, looking more serious than I think I’ve ever seen him. “I admit I do not know you as well as I would like to, Mel, but you cannot honestly believe that you are a miserable person.”

  “Fear it, believe it…depends on the day, I guess.” I shrug, my tone half joking. “But his question is always lingering in the back of my mind. I want to refute it, but instead I just wonder—when am I going to choose happiness? I married a man I didn’t love. I didn’t tell my husband exactly what I needed in the last few months of my mom’s life. I could have asked for his help; I could have told him I wanted her there in the house with me…but I didn’t. I just pulled away. I thought of other people’s happiness, but never my own. I guess that’s where the leech part comes in. I never aim for my own joy, I just live vicariously off the joy of others.”

  Gile looks practically aghast at what I’m telling him. Still, I find the golden alien oddly easy to talk to. Maybe it’s his easy-going nature, or the way he makes me feel like I’m sitting here talking to an old friend despite the fact that we’re just barely getting to know one another. “Look, Gile, I don’t want to blame Gary for something I’d be the first to admit. I’ve made a lot of big choices in my life, but not a one of them have brought me any closer to my own happiness.”

  Gile leans forward in his seat, his brow furrowed. Both of us have forgotten our plates. “You are not happy here?” he questions.

  “No. I mean, yes. I mean—” I laugh and shake my head. “I’m okay. Elysia is a good place and I know that eventually I can be happy here. But I’m not there yet. Something is still missing for me.”

  “It’s almost like I don’t know what to do with myself. There’s lots of work here,” I continue, “and everything we do helps the community to function and thrive. It’s fulfilling, but it isn’t the same as a career would be on Earth. On Earth everyone makes it seem like your job is the be all and end all to happiness. But when I really think about that, I can’t help but wonder why a career should even be so important in the first place.”

  A memory suddenly rings clear in my mind and I’m eager to share it with Gile. “I had a boss once, when I was about 20 or so. I really looked up to the guy. He and his wife had been together over 40 years. I remember him telling me about the things peo
ple ask you when you get to be a certain age. And it isn’t what college you went to, or the successes you had in your career. Instead people ask about your family. This guy, my boss, he was the type to always impart little bits of wisdom and I felt like he was trying to tell me something important then, trying to pass along a lesson in life about what truly matters.”

  “And what is truly important to you?”

  “Family. Whatever that means…”

  Gile leans closer. Looking intrigued, he rests his muscled arms on the table. But he says nothing and waits for me to continue.

  “I guess I’m just kind of at a loss. Something’s missing, but it’s something I’ve never been able to grasp. Reagan understands. Maybe that’s why we get along so well, because we both struggle with the same thing.”

  “Finding your happiness?”

  I purse my lips and nod in agreement.

  “Reagan seemed to think she could find happiness in a mate,” Gile notes.

  “Family, in one way or another,” I agree. “But my family is gone and so is Reagan’s. Gary was supposed to be my family, but he still left me.”

  “Gary was a fool. A fool with a stupid name.”

  I throw my head back and laugh. “Maybe so. But maybe deep down, he and I felt the same way. He was just the first to admit it. I didn’t make him happy and he sure as hell didn’t do it for me either.”

  “He must not have been your true mate then,” Gile tells me. “Were he, he would have stood by your side when you struggled and even now, facing life without him, you would be lost. But that is not the case.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “You know, family is important to Sovolians as well,” Gile tells me.

  “Is that so?” I ask, standing up to clear the table. Gile pours us fresh cups of ceata and I put the kettle over the fire to heat more water.

  “It is. Very much so. We Sovolians make our families where we can find them. Mire is my brother because we have chosen to be and that goes for Gorrard as well. We consider this whole community our family, as a matter of fact.”

  “Wait, you and Mire aren’t really brothers? You look so much alike, I always assumed.”

  “Flesh and blood are of little consequence to Sovolians. If we see a flash of golden skin on a space station or backwater planet, we know we have a brother nearby.”

  “Or a sister,” I point out.

  “Sadly, no. There are no females left of our kind.”

  I stop in my tracks. “Gile, what do you mean there are no females left of your kind?”

  “Sovolians are a conquered race,” he explains. “It happened centuries ago. There was a war and we lost. All of our females were killed and the males enslaved. Since then our kind has been bred in facilities to be sold as bodyguards and mercenaries. The last bits of our history and traditions are passed along orally, but nearly all of what we once were is lost. Yet still we remain,” he says, raising his hands. “So we are family to every Sovolian, but also to all those who are worthy. Mire and I are like you, Reagan, and your boss. Our values are the same. Family is the most important thing in life. That is where happiness comes from,” he says, looking sure of his words.

  I sink back into my seat, taking in what Gile has shared. I can’t get past the slavery and genocide part. It seems so tragic that his civilization was decimated in its entirely.

  “Why don’t Sovolians start over on a new planet, something like what we’re doing here on Elysia?”

  “Because there are no free Sovolians. Mire and I are the only pair I have ever heard of to win our freedom and that was only thanks to Gorrard.”

  “You’re kidding!” I gasp.

  “Not in the least,” Gile laughs. His voice light as he tells his story, despite the weight I feel in his words. “Gorrard was deep in a game of tilt with our last master, who quickly ran out of credits to place his bets with. Gorrard suggested he bet us. Mire and I were nervous, we knew that our master would lose and it is always a frightening thing to find oneself with a new owner. There is no telling what you might end up with. But the second our master was gone, Gorrard declared us free.”

  “That’s amazing,” I marvel.

  “It was terrible!” Gile complains.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, laughing alongside Gile.

  “Mire and I had no idea what to do! There has not been a free Sovolian in centuries. We ended up following Gorrard back into his bar. We sat there for two days before a fight broke out and we split it up. Afterwards Gorrard offered us jobs and thankfully so! We probably would have sat there until we starved to death had he not.”

  “My God, I can’t even imagine.”

  “Believe me, we could not either. It took us a long time to understand that we were truly free and even now, we are still learning what that might mean for us.”

  I gape, trying to wrap my mind around Gile and Mire’s life experiences. A divorce and an alien abduction doesn’t seem so terribly dire when compared to what their civilization has endured, not to mention the fact that Gile and Mire have lived the majority of their lives as slaves.

  “That is why I am so interested in this support group you have started,” Gile continues. “My life, Mire’s life, everything has changed now that Gorrard has a mate of his own. While we were always free with Gorrard, now we have no leader. No boss. We are like seeds on the wind. Never have we been so free as we are right now. I want to honor all my brothers that came before me who never had a chance to live their own lives, and I want to do that by finding happiness in mine.”

  I shake my head in awe. “That’s beautiful. But it also seems like a lot of pressure.”

  “You understand my dilemma well.” He nods, but his expression is hopeful and determined. “I know I can find what I seek. It is here on Elysia, in this very village. But my biggest concern is Mire. I worry he will be too afraid to take the leap. I must help guide him to what he deserves in this life. I will not leave my brother behind in this.”

  “You’re loyal.”

  “It is in my blood. That is why Sovolians make such good slaves.”

  “It makes you a good brother,” I correct, causing Gile to give me one of those wide grins of his.

  “Look at me, I came here to learn more of your people,” Gile points out. “I have spent too much time talking about me. That is why I need my brother. He stops me from embarrassing myself in such a way.”

  “You shouldn’t be embarrassed, I’ve been enjoying our conversation,” I assure him.

  “Still, I’d like to understand you better.”

  “You mean humans. You’d like to understand humans better.”

  “Perhaps I mean both.” Giles eyes flicker mischievously and I bite my lip to keep from smiling.

  “Shoot me any of the questions you’ve got. I’m ready for them.”

  “Okay. Why did the others laugh when I said Mire and I had a same-sex partnership, like the lesbo one Reagan spoke of?”

  I send a silent thanks to God that I don’t have a mouthful of tea this time or I’d be choking again.

  “Ah, let me see… Um, good question.” I look around the room, searching for an answer. “I guess that sort of depends on certain details of your relationship with Mire.”

  “Like what?”

  “Reagan was having a sexual relationship with Gina… They were mating with one another.” I struggle to say the words, turning beet red in the process. “You kind of suggested that’s what you and Mire have going on—which is cool. No judgment, ya know.”

  Gile rubs his face and laughs, leaning back in his chair. “No, I suppose that was a misunderstanding. Mire and I are close, but not that close.”

  “Oh, thank God,” I breathe out.

  “Are you relieved I am not already taken, Mel?” he asks, and I blush again, avoiding an answer as I sip at my ceata.

  “What other questions did you have?” I ask, shooting him my most flirtatious smile.

  Gile leans toward me again, his grin is simultane
ously wicked and charming. “I believe you were going to tell me about hickies. That and City Slickers.”

  We go through three pots of ceata before we hear people in the courtyard outside.

  “Oh my god, is it morning?” I gasp, glancing toward the door. Gile checks his personal comm.

  “It seems we have been talking all night,” he notes.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so long,” I tell him, suddenly feeling flustered. I wonder if anyone noticed Gile never left my room last night? I nearly laugh at the thought. Of course they did. Everyone noticed. Hell, I’m surprised Reagan isn’t at my door right now demanding all the freaking details.

  “Don’t be sorry. I enjoyed myself. I hope you did too,” he says.

  I bite my lip and discreetly look him up and down. Oh boy, did I enjoy myself. I spent the whole night talking to an insanely sexy alien, who leaned in to every word I had to say—as if our conversation was something so delicious it had to be devoured. And I ate him up too. Sure, he’s got those wicked canines, golden skin and hair, and his muscular frame is patterned by bronze veins, crossing his flesh like the lines on a map. But, alien or not, he’s a girl’s wet dream and I find myself wishing I had some more risqué details to give Reagan once I see her later.

  Instead Gile and I spent the night talking about Earth—all the things I miss and the things I don’t, the pets I had growing up, and the TV shows I’ll never know the outcome of. Somehow, we even ended up talking about the grocery store my family used to go to when I was a kid… Don’t even ask me how we ended up there. Still, it felt so good to talk to someone—to a man, really. It was the distraction I had been looking for. That little bit of respite from carrying everyone’s emotional burdens along with my own. Even though our conversation was hardly flirtatious, barring the thirty seconds in which I explained in the most clinical way possible what a hickey is, I’m still left feeling sexy for the first time in a long while.